


Lucky

by scarletmanuka



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Polyamorous Relationship, Greg Looks After Sherlock, John is oblivious, M/M, Multi, Mycroft's Mouth is Devine, Polyamory, Sherlock's worst enemy is his brain, Sibling Incest, holmescest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 19:57:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12116115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletmanuka/pseuds/scarletmanuka
Summary: Sherlock is bored. Greg is busy wrapping up a case so he calls Mycroft to take care of their mutual lover.





	Lucky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyGlinda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyGlinda/gifts).



> I suck at titles.

Sherlock stood against the side of the building, one foot resting on the pebbledash as he watched the body being pushed down the path towards a nondescript white van. His fingers itched for a cigarette and instead they reached up to rub at the numerous patches adhered to his forearm. Lestrade was giving final directions to his team and the Consulting Detective couldn’t help but glare at the man. He was so  _ bored _ and had been longing for a case to come up, so much so that he was texting the DI every half an hour to see if any grisly murders had occurred. He’d had a reply late that morning but the silver haired man had warned him it looked very cut and dry and wasn’t worth Sherlock’s time. He’d come anyway, dragging his new flatmate along with him, only to find Lestrade had been right and the case had been solved within minutes. The neighbour was arrested, the body was strapped to the gurney, and Sherlock had gone outside to sulk and to wait for John to finish his pointless flirting with one of the PCs that had caught his eye.

Lestrade finished giving his instructions and sauntered over to the side of the house, leaning against the empty patch of wall next to Sherlock. His fingers brushed lightly against the Consulting Detective’s but with people swarming around the crime scene, he could give no more comfort lest they be seen. “I’ve called your brother,” he murmured, facing the opposite direction so no one would even know he’d said anything. “I’ll be stuck here tying up the loose ends but you can’t wait till I’m done.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Sherlock protested, his expression schooled to a mask of irritation but there was genuine concern in his voice. “He’s busy with that new terrorism bill. He doesn't have time to bother with me.”

“Yeah, well he decided he does. We worry about you, Sunshine. Last thing either of us want is you falling back on bad habits to cope with that overactive brain of yours.”

“You know I’d never!” he protested. “I promised, Greg.”

“I know you did, and I trust that you won’t break that promise. But why take the risk if we don’t have to?” 

Sherlock glanced over at the same time Lestrade did and he saw fondness, and love, and concern in those warm brown eyes. Relief washed over him just from the knowledge that he didn't just have one person who loved him so much that they would do anything for him, but two. Why he’d been blessed so he would never know, but he was thankful every day that he had both Mycroft and Greg in his life. He gave a minute smile, his walls dropping just for an instant to return the look, and then the mask was back in place, just in time as John came out and joined them then.

“Shall we head off?” the ex army doctor asked, a satisfied smirk on his face that told Sherlock he’d been successful in getting a phone number from the pretty brunette PC. 

A black town car pulled up in the street and Sherlock gave a small shake of his head. “Not just yet, John. It looks like I’ve been summoned.” He rolled his eyes and huffed, playing up his role of over coddled baby brother which John swallowed whole.

“Urgh, what could he possibly want?” he demanded.

“He probably needs my help in locating the nearest bakery,” Sherlock drawled, ignoring the smile that Lestrade quickly hid. Only last week had the three of them enjoyed several cream buns and they’d all had a very pleasurable time licking the jam and cream off each other’s bodies. “I’ll go find out. I shan’t be long, John.”

“While you’re at it, can you ask him about the Johnston Case?” Lestrade asked innocently.

He pursed his lips, making it seem like it would be a great imposition but in the end he nodded curtly. “Will do.” Sherlock strode off towards the car, hearing John mutter an insulting “ _ Who the hell does he think he is? Some sort of deity?” _ . He bit back the impulse to tell John that Mycroft  _ was  _ a deity, in fact he was a  _ sex god _ , but knew it would not help their cause. Instead he kept his mouth closed and allowed Lestrade to offer an empty platitude to placate him. He opened the rear door of the town car and slid inside, pulling it closed behind him.

Mycroft sat in the rear, his jacket removed and his tie loosened. He’d rolled his sleeves up, securing them with his garters, allowing his pale, freckled forearms to show. The solid partition was raised and with the dark tinting, it was cool and dim in the car. “Sherlock,” he greeted him, reaching over and taking his hand. “Greg is worried about you.”

He rolled his eyes, meaning it this time. “He needn’t be, and nor should you. I’m  _ fine _ , Mycroft.”

“We beg to differ.” Slender hands reached up and brushed over his temple. Sherlock couldn't help but lean into the touch. “Stop pushing us away, brother mine. We only want to help.”

“I know,” he said softly, his eyes fluttering closed at the touch. “But you’ve got enough on your plate. I know Sir Edwin is being a bastard and Lady Smallwood becomes impossible when she doesn’t get her way. You’re busy, Mycroft and don’t have time to run around after me. You’re needed too much elsewhere.”

“And yet I  _ am _ entitled to a lunch break. So just shush, brother mine, and let me take care of you.” The last few words were almost growled and the sound went straight to Sherlock’s cock, making it twitch in his pants. When his brother reached for his zipper and pulled it down, he didn't argue, just flicked open his button and helped tug his trousers down over his hips. Long fingers wrapped around his length and he almost moaned as the noise in his head immediately quietened to a dull roar. “Better?” Mycroft asked and he nodded. “But not quite enough,” he added. He pulled Sherlock to him and kissed him gently and then he was bending over at the waist and taking the hard cock in his hand into his mouth instead. 

The noise level dropped once more and suddenly all Sherlock could concentrate on was the feeling of the warm, wet mouth sucking gently on the head, the firm tongue pressing against the shaft, and then delicate fingers fondling his balls. His brother had the most talented mouth he had ever encountered and could reduce both Sherlock and Lestrade to quivering, whimpering messes with very little effort at all. During lulls in cases when they were waiting for lab results, or a lead to unravel, the two detectives had spent many an hour wistfully recounting their shared experiences with that mouth. That more often than not led them to finding an empty disabled toilet on one of the lower floors where no one ever went unless there were meetings on and then calling Mycroft. The diplomat’s self satisfied smirk would be audible in his voice but he would then happily indulge them, whispering all the filthy things he was planning to do to them while they got each other off. 

Sherlock’s mind snapped back to the present as his cock slid into the tighter embrace of Mycroft’s throat. He couldn’t hold back the moan this time as his brother bobbed his head, his lack of a gag reflex and ability to hold his breath for an impossibly long time combining in an overwhelming rush of pleasure for the younger man. Shelock’s fingers tangle in Mycroft’s hair and he cried out, shooting his load down the back of his brother’s throat. Tightness enveloped his shaft as Mycroft swallowed around him and then he was slowly released, a tongue swiping over his sensitive flesh, cleaning him of his seed. Sherlock slumped back on the seat, his mind blissfully quiet. He hardly moved as his clothing was set to rights and fingers caressed his cheek.

“Better?” Mycroft asked after a long moment.

“Mmmm, thank you,” he mumbled, still riding the blissful euphoria of his orgasm.

“You know you can call me whenever you need. Don’t wait till it’s too late. We’re too similar in the fact that we get caught up in our work and lose sight of those around us, so I need you to let me know when it gets bad, Sherlock.”

He sighed. “I promise I’ll try,” was all he could offer.

Lips brushed his and Mycroft smiled. “That’s all I can ask of you. Greg will let me know anyway.”

“Oh, that reminds me - Greg wants to know if you’ll be free to have dinner with us tonight?”

“I’m certain I should have this wrapped up in time. We only have the odds and ends to finish up now so I can’t see it being a problem.”

“Excellent. I’ll see you then.”

Mycroft pulled him in for another kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you, too. Thanks again.”

"Anytime.”

Sherlock climbed from the car and watched it drive off, then walked back to where Lestrade and John were still standing. Chocolate brown eyes met his and he saw the relief in them as his lover recognised his mind had now settled. “All good?” Lestrade asked anyway, knowing John would expect it.

“Yes, he just needed me to look at some paperwork for him.”

“You’d think he’d have minions for that,” the blonde doctor muttered, but the other two ignored him.

“And the Johnston case?” Lestrade asked.

“He still requires your assistance with that,” Sherlock replied with a smile that only the DI would understand. “In fact, he’s asked me if I can help as well. I told him we’d go and see him tonight”

“Will I be needed too?” John asked. “It’s just that I kind of have a date…” He gestured vaguely behind him to where his PC had joined the rest of her team.

“There’s no danger that your date will be interrupted,” the genius assured him. “You don’t have high enough clearance to assist with this one I’m afraid.”

“Oh, well, that’s good then. For me, anyway. You two bastards still have to put up with His Majesty.”

“Oh, I’m sure it won’t be too bad,” Lestrade said, dropping Sherlock a wink when John wasn’t looking. 

“Yeah, right.” John didn't sound convinced but neither man tried to sway him.

“Well then, we’d best be off. See you tonight, Graham,” Sherlock said, trying not to laugh as John whispered to him furiously that the DI’s name ‘ _ is actually Greg, how do you not  _ **_know_ ** _ that by now?’ _ .

Lestrade gave a little wave as he watched then walk off and as they were hailing a cab, Sherlock’s phone beeped. He pulled it out and saw it was a text from his lover.

_ I’m glad he helped. See you tonight, Sunshine. GL x _

He smiled, and replied, ignoring the curious look his flatmate shot him.

_ Thanks for calling him for me. You always seem to know what I need - SH _

_ Trust me, I’ll be giving you another dose of what you need tonight - GL _

He didn't bother replying, just smiled again as he pocketed his phone. As he gazed out the window, he allowed himself a moment to just bask in how happy he was. He had a new friend by his side, his mind was blissfully silent, and he had two men who adored him. Sherlock had never believed in luck but it appeared luck believed in him as he was the luckiest man on the planet.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I also suck at endings. Sorry.


End file.
